


Eggs in One Basket

by IAmANonnieMouse



Series: Up on the Housetop [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Crack, Easter, M/M, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 11:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmANonnieMouse/pseuds/IAmANonnieMouse
Summary: A shadow fell over the top of Arthur's paper. “No,” he said slowly, tilting his paper back into the sunlight, “there arenoeggs underneath me.”“I should hope not,” a mild voice said. “Last I checked, you were human, not hen.”Arthur jerked his head up. “You look different without the suit,” he blurted.Santa—Eames—That Guy Who Came Down Dom’s Chimney On Christmas andalsokissedarthurwhywhywhy—grinned. “I could hardly wear that today, love. It’s springtime.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, here is a little fic as my birthday gift to my amazing, lovely readers! You are all the best. Thank you <3
> 
> (I'm posting a little early, but, by Eames Logic, because of time zones, it is tomorrow somewhere.)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy! Happy Easter!

Generally, Arthur enjoyed reading his newspaper in the park on warm Sunday mornings. He could listen to the ducks squawk, admire the floofy dogs that walked by, and get some much-needed Vitamin D. 

But generally, the park wasn’t filled with wild, feral children digging up every corner of the world, hunting for colorful eggs.

He was sick of telling the little monsters to stop looking under his ass for Easter eggs. He wasn’t a damn chicken.

A shadow fell over the top of his paper. “No,” he said slowly, tilting his paper back into the sunlight, “there are _no_ eggs underneath me.”

“I should hope not,” a mild voice said. “Last I checked, you were human, not hen.”

Arthur jerked his head up. “You look different without the suit,” he blurted.

Santa—Eames— _That Guy Who Came Down Dom’s Chimney On Christmas andalsokissedarthurwhywhywhy_ —grinned. “I could hardly wear that today, love. It’s springtime.”

Arthur stared. Eames was dressed in a hideous bright pink shirt with cartoon rabbits on it. His shorts were neon green. Arthur almost asked if he was wearing a cotton tail, but he managed to close his mouth before the words escaped.

“Are the elves still on strike?” he asked instead.

Eames smirked and sat next to Arthur, stretching a long arm over the back of the park bench. “No,” he said, “we managed to reach an understanding. Basically, I gave them what they wanted.”

Arthur imagined he could feel the heat of Eames’ arm behind him. But maybe that was sunburn setting in. “I don’t think that’s how negotiating is supposed to work,” he managed. “There’s usually more of a dialogue involved.”

“Ah,” Eames said, “so if you’d been there, you could have helped me?”

“Uh,” Arthur said. “Did you really come all the way down from the North Pole?” He smacked himself in the face with his newspaper. Yes, that was the logical response when a handsome man who just so happened to be Santa flirted with him. Because, yes.

Eames laughed. “Now, now, we can’t have any of that.” He reached out and plucked the newspaper from Arthur’s hands. “And yes, I did come from the North Pole. Had to stop in Michigan to give the reindeer a break, though. They don’t like the heat.”

Arthur turned to look at him. “You look different,” he said again.

Eames chuckled. “Shall I take that as a compliment?”

A small child ran up to them, saving Arthur from answering. “Twick or tweat!” she warbled.

“Wrong holiday, love,” Eames laughed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, intricately painted egg. “But here, happy Easter.”

She beamed and carefully placed the egg in her basket. “Fank you!”

“Of course you like the little beasts,” Arthur muttered. 

“It’s more or less my job description, love.” Eames leaned back again and glanced at Arthur, still smiling. “And I know for a fact you like at least two of the beasts.”

“What?” Arthur asked.

“The ones belonging to your shitty excuse of a friend?” Eames prompted.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “That’s different,” he said. “James and Phillipa are cute. These kids are monsters.”

Eames laughed again. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said. “Why _are_ you here? It’s spring.”

“Indeed it is, love.” Eames smiled. “I wanted to thank you for the carrots.”

Arthur blinked. “The carrots?”

“That you so generously gave to my hungry reindeer,” Eames reminded him.

“They weren’t even my carrots,” Arthur said. “They were my friend’s.”

“Ah, the shitty excuse of a friend appears yet again.” Eames snorted. “Tell me, how did he like the water guns?”

“He didn’t, actually,” Arthur said drily. 

“I knew it.” Eames grinned.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Well, you’ve thanked me for the carrots. Is this where I thank you for helping me wrap those gifts?”

“No,” Eames said. He reached out and pinched the end of Arthur’s nose. “This is where you tell me if you have any pressing ties here.”

Arthur’s brain malfunctioned. “You mean, other than the one I’m wearing?”

“Kinky.” Eames winked. “No, love. I mean, if I were to invite you to a land of reindeer, toys, and recently-appeased elves, would you be interested?”

“Invite me?” Arthur echoed. “What, to visit?”

“No, love,” Eames murmured, smile softening. “Not to visit.”

“The North Pole?” Arthur asked.

“I swear, it’s a lot nicer than you’ve heard,” Eames said.

“You don’t know me,” Arthur said.

“Of course I do,” Eames said. “I know that you’re a good person who doesn’t attack strange men who appear in their chimneys.”

Arthur scoffed. “That’s hardly enough information to go on.”

“And,” Eames continued, “I know that you have never, not once, been on the naughty list.”

Arthur turned to stare at him. “Are you serious? You looked me up on the naughty list?”

“What?” Eames blinked. “It’s _my_ list.”

Arthur shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now.”

Eames leaned back on the bench. His hand brushed the top of Arthur’s shoulder. “So, how about it, love?” he asked. “Want to come live on the North Pole?”

Arthur frowned. “Do I get to see James and Phillipa again?”

“Oh, good Lord, love!” Eames straightened. “I’m not a jailer. You can come back any time, of course! And if you decide you hate me, you can leave and come back to your life without any fuss from me. Promise.”

“I don’t know,” Arthur said, smirking. “I don’t want to get put on the naughty list.”

Eames leaned in and brushed their noses against each other. “I promise I won’t put you on the naughty list,” he whispered, breath tickling Arthur’s face.

“Okay,” Arthur breathed.

Eames leaned back, beaming. “Really, love?”

“Really,” Arthur said.

Eames grabbed Arthur’s hand and dragged him to his feet. “Perfect,” he gushed. “The sleigh’s this way.”

“Wait,” Arthur said as he followed Eames through the park. “How did you look me up on the naughty list? I never told you my name.”

Eames slowed and turned back towards him. “I am a man of many talents,” he said. “But if it makes you feel better, then here.” He extended his hand. “My name is Eames.”

Arthur smiled and shook his hand. “Arthur. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Eames gripped his hand and pulled him closer. “No, love,” he said, eyes twinkling. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am on [Tumblr.](http://iamanonniemouse.tumblr.com/)


End file.
